
Glass_ 



Book > ^ 3 



No. I. Ten Cents. 



Per Year, One Dollar. 




r;?53^ 






»outbern XKHiiter0. 

Biographical and Critical Studies. 

Joel CbanMev Ibarris. 

JBis muuam flbalone Sasftecvill, 




' 'v f a 




mm 





JULY, iaOG. 



Barbee & Smith, Agents, 

NastLVillG, Tenn, 





rsie/3 



SOUTHERN WRITERS SERIES. 



In a series of twelve papers the writer proposes 
to give a tolerably complete survey of that literary 
movement which, beginning about 1S70, has spread 
over the entire South. Since that time Southern 
writers have been conspicuous among the chief con- 
tributors to the nation's literature. There will be 
no attempt to place a final estimate upon this con- 
tribution, though some critical opinions will now 
and then be offered. The effort will be rather to 
present biographical daia and literary apprecia- 
tions — to stimulate the desire for a more intimate 
acquaintance with this literature which is so fresh, 
original, and racy of the soil. The series will ap- 
pear as follows: 

No. I. Joel Chandler Harris. 
'" No. 2. Maurice Thompson. 
V No. 3. Sidney Lanier. 
., No. 4. Irwin Russell. 

No. 5. Mrs. Margaret J. Preston. 
V No. 6. George Washington Cable. 
- No.' 7. Charles Egbert Craddock. 
No. 8. Richard Malcolm Johnston. 
No. 9. Thomas Nelsou Page. 
No. 10. James Lane Allen. 
No. n. Miss Grace King. ^^ 
No. 12. Samuel Minturn Peck. ^ 
These writers may not unfairly be considered 
typical and representative of the best that has been 
produced in this new era. 

Southern Writers: Published Monthly. 
Subscription price, $1 a year. Single copies, 10 
cents, postage paid. 

Send orders for the whole series or for separate 
numbers to 

BARBEE & SMITH, Agents, 

NaslivillG, Texua. 



Copyright, 1896. 






3oeI CbanMer Ibarris* 



I? 

MIDDLE GEORGIA is the 
birthplace and home of the 
raciest and most original 
kind of Southern humor. In this 
quarter native material was earliest 
recognized and first made use of. A 
school of writers arose who looked 
out of their eyes, and listened with 
their ears, who took frank interest in 
things for their own sake, and had 
enduring astonishment at the most 
common. They seized the warm 
and palpitating facts of everyday 
existence, and gave them to the 
world with all the accompaniments 
of quaint dialect, original humor, 
and Southern plantation life. The 
Middle Georgians are a simple, 
healthy, homogeneous folk, resem- 
bling for the most part other South- 
erners of like rank and calling in 
their manners, customs, and general 



5oel CbanMcr Ibarris. 



way of living. But they have de- 
veloped a certain manly, vigorous, 
fearless independence of thought 
and action, and an ever increasing 
propensity to take a humorous view 
of life. In their earlier writings it 
is a homely wit, in which broad hu- 
mor and loud laughter predominate ; 
but tears are lurking in the corners 
of the eyes, and genuine sentiment 
nestles in the heart. In more re- 
cent times the horizon has widened, 
and there has been a gain in both 
breadth of view and depth of in- 
sight. Genius and art have com- 
bined to make this classic soil. 

It is a small section of country, 
comprising only a few counties, but 
with them are indelibly associated 
the names of A. B. Longstreet, W. 
T. Thompson, J. J. Hooper, Francis 
O. Ticknor, Richard Malcolm John- 
ston, Harry Stillwell Edwards, Sid- 
ney Lanier, Maurice Thompson, Joel 
Chandler Harris, and many other less 
known writers. If we turn to their 
characters and scenes, the associa- 
2 



5oel CbanMer Ibards. 



tion is still more intimate. Ransy 
Sniffle and Ned Brace belong to 
Baldwin, the scene of " The Fight," 
" The Gander Pulling," and " The 
Militia Drill." In the woods and 
along the river banks of the same 
county " The Two Runaways " 
were wont at a later day to enjoy 
their annual escapade. " Simon 
Suggs " was a native of Jasper ; 
" Major Jones's Courtship " took 
place in Morgan; "Mr. Absalom 
Billingslea and Other Georgia 
Folk" are at home in Hancock; 
but to Putnam County was awarded 
the honor of giving birth to " Uncle 
Remus," a veritable Ethiopian 
^^sop, philosopher, and gentleman, 
and to the " Little Boy," whose 
inexhaustible curiosity and eager- 
ness to hear a " story " have called 
forth the most valuable and, in the 
writer's opinion, the most perma- 
nent contribution to American lit- 
erature in the last quarter of this 
century. 

This school of humorists are not 
3 



5oel CbanMer Ibarris. 



realists at all in the modern sense ; 
for nothing is farther from their 
writings than sadness, morbidness, 
and pessimism. Naturalism is the 
term by which their literary method 
may best be characterized. They 
look frankly and hearken attentive- 
ly, following, at a great distance it 
may be, Fielding's and the great 
master's plan of holding the mirror 
up to nature. But coloring, tone, 
and substance have been reproduced 
with such absolute fidelity because 
the heart is full of hope, the eye 
bright, and a smile ever playing 
around the mouth. It is also easy 
to see that they are to the manner 
born. " To be sure," says Judge 
Longstreet, "in writing the 
* Georgia Scenes ' I have not con- 
fined myself to strictly veracious 
historic detail ; but there is scarcely 
one word from the beginning to 
the end of the book that is not 
strictly Georgian. The scenes 
which I describe — as, for instance, 
'The Gander Pulling' — occurred at 
4 



5oel CbanDler Ibarris, 



the very place where I locate them." 
Shortly after the appearance of 
'' The Adventures of Capt. Simon 
Suggs," a friend met the original 
on the streets of Monticello and 
said : " Squire Suggs, do you re- 
member Jonce Hooper — little 
Jonce? " "Seems to me I do," 
replied Mr. Suggs. " Well, Squire, 
little Jonce has gone and noveled 
you." Mr. Suggs looked serious. 
" Gone and noveled me? " he ex- 
claimed. " Well, I'll be danged ! 
Gone and noveled me? What 
could 'a possessed him?" Since 
the Civil War the " noveling " 
process has gone on with enlarged 
sympathies and greater success. A 
nev^ figure has been added to the 
picture, making it more complete — 
the negro. With the wider view 
has also come greater freedom of 
treatment, and no writers in the 
South have appreciated this mental 
and artistic liberty more than the 
Georgians. Each of them has, by 
means of the simplicity, humor, and 
5 



3^oel CbanMer 1barn0. 

individuality which characterize the 
school, made a distinct contribution 
to the sum of human interest and 
enjoyment. ^ But the most sympa- 
thetic, the most original, the truest 
delineator of this larger life — its 
manners, customs, amusements, 
dialect, folklore, humor, pathos, and 
character — is Joel Chandler Harris. 
His birthplace was Eatonton, the 
capital of Putnam County, in Middle 
Georgia, and the date of his birth 
December 9, 1848. Slight bio- 
grapical and personal sketches of 
him have appeared in the Ci'itic^ 
in Literatui-e^ and in the Book 
Buyer^ but the best account of his 
early life is to be found in " On the 
Plantation," one of the most inter- 
esting books that Mr. Harris has 
written. In this deUghtful volume 
it is not easy to tell " where confes- 
sion ends and how far fiction em- 
broiders truth." But the author has 
kindly left it to the reader to "sift 
the fact from the fiction, and label 
it to suit himself." x\s has been 
6 



5oel CbanOlec Ibarrla. 



said of another romancer, it is not 
through the accidental circumstan- 
ces of his Hfe that he belongs to 
history, but through his talent ; and 
his talent is in his books. Our first 
glimpse of Mr. Harris is in the lit- 
tle post ofiice of Eatonton, which is 
also a " country store," and much 
frequented for both purposes. He 
is sitting upon a rickety, old, faded 
green sofa, in a corner of which he 
used to curl up nearly every day, 
reading such stray new^spapers as 
he could lay his hands on, and 
watching the people come and go. 
His look betrays shyness and sensi- 
tiveness, though it is full of obser- 
vation. He is reading in a Mil- 
ledgeville paper the announcement 
of a Mr. Turner, whose acquaint- 
ance he has recently made, that he 
will begin the 2^ublication the fol- 
lowing Tuesday of a weekly news- 
paper, to be called the Countiy- 
man. It is to be modeled after Mr. 
Addison's little paper, the Specta- 
tor^ Mr. Goldsmith's little paper, 
7 



S^oel CbanDlcc Ibarcis. 



the Bee^ and Mr. Johnson's little 
paper, the Rambler. He has 
heard of these, for he has had a 
few terms in the Eatonton Acade- 
my, and read some of the best books 
of the eighteenth century. When 
the " Vicar of Wakefield " is men- 
tioned his eye sparkles, for since he 
was six years of age that wonderful 
story has been a stimulus to his 
imagination, and made him eager to 
read all books. He is proud of his 
acquaintance with a real editor, and 
waits with great impatience for the 
first issue of the Countryman. In 
the meanwhile we learn that he can- 
not be called a studious lad, or at 
any rate that he is not at all fond of 
the books in his desk at the Eaton- 
ton Academy. On the contrary, he 
is of an adventurous turn of mind, 
full of all sorts of pranks and 
capers ; and plenty of people in the 
little town are ready to declare that 
he will come to some bad end if he 
is not more frequently dosed with 
what the old folks call "hickory 
8 



^ocl CbanMer Ibatrfs* 

oil." But he has a strange sympa- 
thy with animals of all kinds, es- 
pecially horses and dogs, and a 
deeper, tenderer sympathy with all 
human beings. 

At last the first issue arrives, and 
is read from beginning to end — ad- 
vertisements and all. The most im- 
portant thing in it, as it turned out, 
was the announcement that the edi- 
tor wanted a boy to learn the print- 
ing business. The friendly post- 
master furnished pen, ink, and 
paper, and the lad applied for the 
place and got it. Mr. Turner lived 
about nine miles from Eatonton, on 
a plantation of some two thousand 
acres, which was well supplied with 
slaves, horses, dogs, and game of 
different kinds. He was a lover of 
books, and had a choice collection of 
two or three thousand volumes. 
His wealth also enabled him to con- 
duct the only country newspaper in 
the world, which he did so success- 
fully that it reached a circulation of 
nearly two thousand copies. On 
1* 9 



5ocl CbanMer Ibarris. 



the plantation was a pack of well- 
trained harriers, with which the lit- 
tle printer hunted rabbits, and a 
fine hound or two of the Birdsong 
breed, with which he chased the red 
fox. With the negroes he learned 
to hunt coons, and possums, and 
from them he heard those stories 
which have since placed their nar- 
rator in the list of the immortals. 
The printing office sat deep in a 
large grove of oaks, full of gray 
squirrels which kept the solitary 
typesetter company, running about 
over the roofs and playing "hide 
and seek " like children. From his 
window he watched the partridge 
and her mate build their artful nest, 
observed their coquetries, and from 
her mysteriously skillful manner of 
drawing one away from her nest or 
her young he learned one of his 
earliest and most puzzling lessons 
in bird craft. The noisy jay, the 
hammering woodpecker, and the 
vivacious and tuneful mocking bird 
lent their accompaniment to the 
10 



5oel CbanMer fbarris* 



clicking of the types. At twelve 
years of age, then, Mr. Harris 
found himself in this ideal situation 
for the richest and most healthful 
development of his talents. Type- 
setting came easy, and the lad had 
the dogs to himself in the late after- 
noon and the books at night, and he 
made the most of both. The schol- 
arly planter turned him loose to 
brov^se at will in his library, only 
now and then giving a judicious 
hint. The great Elizabethans first 
caught his fancy, and quaint old 
meditative and poetical Sir Thomas 
Browne became one of his prime 
favorites, a place he yet holds. He 
made many friends among the 
standard authors that only a boy of 
a peculiar turn of mind would take 
to his bosom. But no book at any 
time has ever usurped the place of 
the inimitable " Vicar of Wake- 
field " in his affections — Goethe's, 
Scott's, Irving's, Thackeray's, all 
humanity's adorable Vicar. Mr. 
Harris, like Sir Walter, has read it 
. 11 



S^oel dbanOlcr 1bacti6. 



in youth and in age, and the charm 
endures. In a recent paper he 
wrote ; " The first book that ever 
attracted my attention, and the one 
that has held it longest, was and is 
the 'Vicar of Wakefield.' The 
only way to describe my experience 
with that book is to acknowledge 
that I am a crank. It touches me 
more deeply, it gives me the ' all- 
overs ' more severely than all others. 
Its simplicity, its air of extreme 
wonderment, have touched and con- 
tinue to touch me deeply." These 
two favorites have since that early 
period found worthy rivals in the 
Bible and Shakespeare, and he is 
specially serious when he talks of 
his heroes, Lee, Jackson, and Lin- 
coln. Job, Ecclesiastes, and Paul's 
writings are his prime favorites ; 
but all good books interest him 
more or less, though at the present 
time an ardent young writer on a 
pilgrimage to this shrine would per- 
haps find Mr. Harris's library as 
scantly supplied as Mr. Howells 
12 



Joel CbanMer Ibarrfs, 



found Hawthorne's. There are 
only a few books, but they are the 
best, and they have been read and 
reread. Emerson, however, is not 
of this number ; his " queer self- 
consciousness " and attitude of self- 
sufficiency have never appealed to 
him in any winning way. " You 
cannot expect an uncultured Georgia 
cracker to follow patiently the con- 
volute diagrams of the oversoul," 
he will say ; adding, with a quizzic- 
al smile : " You see I am perfectly 
frank in this, presenting the appear- 
ance of feeling as proud of my lack 
of taste and culture as a little girl is 
of her rag doll." But when culture 
and individuality are united, as he 
found them in Lowell, they receive 
his frankest admiration. " Culture 
is a very fine thing, indeed," he 
wrote of Mr. Lowell on his seven- 
tieth birthday, "but it is never of 
much account, either in life or in 
literature, unless it is used as a cat 
uses a mouse, as a source of mirth 
and luxury. It is at its finest in 
13 



5oel CbanMer Ibarrls, 



this country when it is grafted on 
the sturdiness that has made the na- 
tion what it is, and when it is forti- 
fied by the strong common sense 
that has developed and preserved 
the repubHc. This is culture with 
a definite aim and purpose, . . . 
and we feel the ardent spirit of it in 
pretty much everything Mr. Lowell 
has written." As for the realists, 
he admires " immensely " what is 
best in them, though he has no 
fondness for minute psychological 
analysis. He likes a story and 
" human nature, humble, fascina- 
ting, plain, common human nature." 
"A man is known by the company 
he keeps," is a saying with a wider 
application, I fancy, than is com- 
ly given to it. I had a friend once 
— a strong, earnest, meditative, silent 
man — over the mantel in whose 
study hung a portrait of William 
CuUen Bryant. The kinship of na- 
ture could easily be traced between 
these two and that great American 
of whom Bryant wrote : 
14 



5oel CbanOler Ibarrfe. 



The wildest storm that sweeps through 
space, 

And rends the oak with sudden force, 
Can raise no ripple on his face, 

Or slacken his majestic course. 

I could easily imagine my friend 
in the heart of some primeval forest 
— he had a deep and reverent love 
of nature — repeating his favorite 
lines : 

Be it ours to meditate, 
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of thy works 
Learn to conform the order of our lives. 

And so, consciously or unconscious- 
ly, Mr. Harris has imbibed old- 
fashioned ways of simplicity, nat- 
uralness, and truth from his Shakes- 
peare and Bible ; has had ingrained 
in the fiber of his being the gentle- 
ness, delicacy, and purity of feeling 
which distinguish the good Vicar's 
author, and has conformed his life 
to that sentiment of Sir Thomas 
Browne's which "The Autocrat" 
considered the most admirable in 
any literature : " Every man truly 
lives so long as he acts his nature 
15 



5oel CbanDlec Ibarris, 



or some way makes good the facul- 
ties of himself." 

Among these books he lived for 
several years, and almost before he 
knew it he was acquainted with 
those writers who lend wings to 
the creative imagination, if its deli- 
cate body has found habitation in a 
human soul. With the acquisition 
of knowledge went also hand in 
hand an observation of life and of 
nature. As he left his native vil- 
lage in the buggy with Mr. Turner, 
he had observed how quickly his 
little companions returned to their 
marbles after bidding him good-bye ; 
and he had observed, too, how the 
high sheriff was " always in town 
talking politics," and talking "big- 
ger than anybody." When he came 
to the plantation his observant eye 
took in everything, and the observa- 
tions of the boy became the basis of 
the lifelong convictions and princi- 
ples of the man. His greatest na- 
ture-gift, sympathy, put him in 
touch with dog and horse, with 
16 



5ocl CbanDler Ibarrie. 



black runaway and white deserter, 
with the master and his slaves. 
These, he observed, treated him 
with more consideration than they 
showed to other white people, with 
the exception of their master. 
There was nothing they were not 
ready to do for him at any time of 
day or night. Taking him into 
their inner life, they poured a 
wealth of legendary folklore and 
story into his retentive ear, and to 
him revealed their true nature ; for 
it is not a race that plays its tricks, 
as some one has said of nature, un- 
reservedly before the eyes of every- 
body. 

Mr. Harris has never had the 
sliofhtest desire to become a man of 
letters ; but the necessity of ex- 
pressing himself in writing came 
upon him early in life. His first 
efforts appeared in the Country- 
man^ sent in anonymously. Kindly 
notice and encouragement induced 
the young writer to throw off dis- 
guise and to write regularly. His 
l^-i^ 17 



5oel CbanMer Ibarrls. 



contributions soon took a wider 
range, embracing local articles, es- 
says, and poetry. But this idyllic 
existence was suddenly ended. 
Sherman's " march through 
Georgia" brought a corps of his 
army to the Turner plantation, and 
when the foragers departed they 
left little behind them except a 
changed order of things. The 
editor-planter called up those of his 
former slaves that remained, and 
told them that they were free. The 
Countrymajt passed away with the 
old order, devising, however, a rich 
legacy to the new. "A larger 
world beckoned [to the young 
writer] and he went out into it. 
And it came about that on every 
side he found loving hearts to com- 
fort and strong and friendly hands 
to guide him. He found new asso- 
ciations, and formed new ties. In 
a humble way he made a name for 
himself, but the old plantation clays 
still live in his dreams." The 
" Wanderjahre " were few and un- 
18 



5oel CbanMcr Ibartts. 

eventful. Now we find him setting 
his " string " on the JMacon Daily 
Telegraphy then in a few months 
he is in New Orleans as a private 
secretary of the editor of the Cres- 
cent ]\Io?ithly^ keeping his hand in, 
however, by writing bright para- 
graphs for the city papers. In a 
short while he returns to Georgia to 
become the editor of the Forsyth 
Advertiser^ one of the most influen- 
tial weekly papers in the State. In 
addition to the editorial work, he 
set the type, worked off the edition 
on a hand press, and wrapped and 
directed his papers for the mail. 
His bubbling humor and pungent 
criticism of certain abuses in the 
State were widely copied, and spe- 
cially attracted the attention of Colo- 
nel W. T. Thompson, the author 
of " Major Jones's Courtship " and 
other humorous books, who at that 
time was editor of the Savan^iah 
Daily News. He offered Mr. Har- 
ris a place on his staff, which was 
accepted ; and this pleasant associa- 
19 



Joel CbanMer Ibarris, 



tion lasted from 1S71 to 1876. In 
the latter year a yellow fever epi- 
demic drove him to Atlanta ; he 
became at once a member of the 
editorial staff of the Constitution^ 
and his literary activity began. 
And it is altogether fitting, too, that 
Mr. Harris's success should be iden- 
tified with this popular journal, for 
no other newspaper published in the 
South has given so much attention 
to literary matters and encourage- 
ment to literary talent. Up to this 
time Mr. Harris had written, so far 
as I am aware, but one brief little 
sketch, a mere incident, which gave 
any promise of his future line of 
development and peculiar powers. 
It appeared in the Countryinafi at 
the close of the war — a little sequel 
to the passing of the Twentieth 
Army Corps, commanded by Gen- 
eral Slocum, along the road by the 
Turner plantation. Thinking that 
the army would take another route, 
the lonely lad had seated himself on 
the fence, and before he knew it the 
20 



3-oel CbanOlec Ibarris. 



troops were upon him. Their 
good-natured chaff he endured with 
a kind of stunned calmness till all 
passed. He then jumped from the 
fence and made his way home 
through the fields. " In a corner of 
the fence, not far from the road, 
Joe found an old negro woman 
shivering and moaning. Near her 
lay an old negro man, his shoulders 
covered with an old, ragged shawl. 
' Who is that lying there ? ' asked 
Joe. ' It my ole man, suh.' ' What 
is the matter with him ? ' ' He dead, 
suh ; but bless God, he died free ! ' " 
Just before Mr. Harris went to 
Atlanta Mr. S. W. Small had be- 
gun to give the Constitutio7i a more 
than local reputation by means of 
humorous negro dialect sketches. 
His resignation shortly afterwards 
made the proprietors turn for aid to 
Mr. Harris, who, taking an old ne- 
gro whom he had known on the 
Turner plantation and making him 
chief spokesman, brought out in 
-several sketches the contrast be- 
21 



5ocl CbanMer Ibarrfs. 



tween the old and the new condi- 
tion of things. But he soon tired of 
these, and one night he Avrote the 
first sketch in " Legends of the Plan- 
tation," in which " Uncle Remus '* 
initiates the " Little Boy," just as it 
now appears in his first published 
volume, entitled, " Uncle Remus : 
His Songs and Sayings." Fame 
came at once, though the invincible 
modesty of the author still refuses to 
recognize it. A number of things 
enhanced the value of this produc- 
tion — the wealth of folklore, the ac- 
curate and entertaining dialect, the 
delightful stories, the exquisite pic- 
ture of " the dear remembered days." 
But the true secret of the power and 
value of " Uncle Remus " and his 
" Sayings " does not lie solely in the 
artistic and masterly setting and 
narration. The enduring quality 
lies there, for he has made a j^ast 
civilization " remarkably striking to 
the mind's eye," and shown that 
rare ability " to seize the heart of 
the suggestion, and make a country 
22 



5ocl CbanDlcr Ibards. 



famous with a legend." But under- 
neath the art is the clear view of 
life, as well as humor, wit, philoso- 
phy, and " unadulterated human na- 
ture." We can get little idea of the 
revelation which Mr. Harris has 
made of negro life and character 
without comparing his conception 
and delineation with'the ideal negro 
of "My Old Kentucky Home," 
" Uncle Tom's Cabin," and « Mars 
Chan " and " Meh Lady," and the 
impossible negro of the minstrel 
shov^. A few years ago the editor 
of the Philadelphia Times remarked 
that " it is doubtful whether the real 
negro can be got very clearly into 
literature except by way of minstrel 
shows and the comic drama." In 
answer to this Mr. Harris has truth- 
fully said that " a representation of 
negro life and character has never 
been put upon the stage, nor any- 
thing remotely resembling it ; but to 
all who have any knowledge of the 
negro, the plantation darky, as he 
was, is a very attractive figure. It 
23 



5oel Cbandleu Ibacns* 



is a silly trick of the clowns to give 
him over to burlesque, for his life, 
though abounding in humor, was 
concerned with all that the imao-ina- 
tion of man has made pathetic." 
The negro of the minstrel show, 
black with burnt cork, sleek and 
saucy, white - eyed, red - lipped, 
crowned with plug hat, wearing 
enormous shoes, and carrvinof a 
banjo, rises to the dignity of a cari- 
cature only in the external appear- 
ance. The wit reeks with stale 
beer and the Bowery. Foster's 
" My Old Kentucky Home " is sim- 
ply " Uncle Tom's Cabin " turned 
into a song ; and the latter, says Ir- 
win Russell, " powerfully written as 
it is, gives no more true idea of ne- 
gro life and character than one could 
get from the Nautical Almanac, and, 
like most other political documents, 
is quite the reverse of true in almost 
every respect." These contain the 
sentiments and the thoughts of artist- 
philanthropists belonging to a race 
" three or four thousand years in ad- 
24 



3^oel CbanC)lec Darris, 



vance of them [the negroes] in men- 
tal capacity and moral force." They 
do breathe with infinite pathos the 
homely affection, the sorrows and 
hopes of everyday life, as these have 
been developed and conceived by the 
white race ; but who ever heard that 
this was a favorite song or that a 
favorite book in any community of 
negroes? And so Mr. Page's "Marse 
Chan " and " Meh Lady," and Mr. 
Allen's " Two Gentlemen of Ken- 
tucky," are the answers of genius 
to genius and art pitted against art 
in this great controversy. In them 
the devotion, the doglike fidelity, 
and the unselfishness of the nep-ro 
are used to intensify the pathos of 
the white man's situation, just as in 
the other case the pathos of the ne- 
gro's situation was utilized to excite 
the philanthropy of^he white man. 
In both cases the negro is a mere 
accessory, used to heighten the ef- 
fect. It seems to be almost an im- 
possibility for song writer, novelist, 
or serious historian to appreciate the 
25 



5oel CbanDfer Ibarris* 



nature or understand the condition 
of the plantation negroes ; for oth- 
erwise, how can we account for so 
glaring a misconception as Mr. 
Bryce's, that they remained, up to 
the eve of emancipation, " in their 
notions and habits much what their 
ancestors were in the forests of the 
Niger or the Congo." 

The Southern plantation negro 
sprang from the child race of hu- 
manity, and possessed only so much 
civilization as his contact with the 
white man gave him. Like children, 
he used smiles, cunning, deceit, du- 
plicity, ingenuity, and all the other 
wiles by which the weaker seek 
to accommodate themselves to the 
stronger. Brer Rabbit was his hero, 
and " it is not virtue that triumphs, 
but helplessness ; it is not malice, 
but mischievousness." In the course 
of time he became remarkable for 
both inherent and grafted qualities. 
Gratitude he was distinguished for ; 
hospitality and helpfulness were his 
natural creed ; brutality was con- 
26 



5ocl CbanMer Ibarrfs. 

spicuously absent, considering the 
prodigious depth of his previous 
degradation. He did not lack cour- 
age, industry, self-denial, or virtue. 
He did an immense amount of quiet 
thinking, and, with only such forms 
of expression as his circumstances 
furnished, he indulged in paradox, 
hyperbole, aphorism, sententious 
comparison, and humor. He treas- 
ured his traditions, w^as enthusiastic, 
patient, long-suffering, religious, rev- 
erent. "Is there not poetry in the 
character?" asked Irwin Russell, 
the first, perhaps, to conceive and to 
delineate it with real fidelity to life. 
Since his all too untimely taking off 
many have attempted this subject ; 
but no one has equaled the crea- 
tor of " Uncle Remus," one of the 
very few creations of American 
writers worthy of a place in the 
gallery of the immortals ; and he 
should be hung in the corner with 
such gentlemen as Col. Newcome 
and Sir Roger de Coverley, and 
not very far from Rip Van Win- 
27 



5oel Cban&lec Ibaccis, 

kle, my Uncle Toby, and Jack Fal- 
staff. 

Before the war Uncle Remus had 
always exercised authority over his 
fellow-servants. He had been the 
captain of the corn pile, the stoutest 
at the log rolling, the swiftest with 
the hoe, the neatest with the plow, 
the leader of the plantation hands. 
Now he is an old man whose tall 
figure and venerable appearance are 
picturesque in the extreme, but he 
moves and speaks with the vigor of 
perennial youth. He is the embod- 
iment of the quaint and homely hu- 
mor, the picturesque sensitiveness — 
a curious exaltation of mind and 
temperament not to be defined by 
words — and the really poetic imagi- 
nation of the negro race ; and over 
all is diffused the genuine flavor of 
the old plantation. With the art to 
conceal art, the author retires behind 
the scenes and lets this patriarch re- 
veal negro life and character to the 
world. Now it is under the guise 
of Brer Rabbit, after his perilous 
28 



5oel Gban&ler Ibarris. 



adventure with the tar baby and nar- 
row escape from Brer Fox as he is 
seen " settin' cross-legged on a chink- 
apin log koamin' de pitch outen his 
har w4d a chi23," and " flingin' back 
some er his sass, ' Bred and bawn in 
a brier patch, Brer Fox ; bred and 
bawn in a brier patch ! ' " Another 
phase is seen in " Why Brer Possum 
Loves Peace," a story of indolent 
good nature, questionable valor, and 
nonsensical wisdom : " I don' min' 
fightin' no mo' dan you doz, sez'^ee, 
but I declar' to grashus ef I kin 
Stan' ticklin.' An' down ter dis day," 
continued Uncle Remus, " down ter 
dis day. Brer Possum's boun' ter 
s'render w'en you tech him in de 
short ribs, en he'll laff ef he knows 
he's ofwine ter be smashed for it." 
This whimsical defense of inborn 
cowardice has a touch of nature in 
it which makes it marvelously akin 
to Sir John's counterfeiting on 
Shrewsbury plain. But the pre- 
vailing interest is centered in Brer 
Rabbit's skill in outwitting Brer 
29 



5oel CbanMec fbarrls. 



Fox and the other animals, which is 
managed with such cleverness and 
good nature that we cannot but sym- 
pathize with the hero, in spite of his 
utter lack of conscience or convic- 
tion. But the chief merit of these 
stories, as Mr. Page has remarked, 
springs directly from the fact that 
Uncle Remus knows them, is relat- 
ing them, and is vivifying them with 
his own quaintness and humor, and 
is impressing us in every phase with 
his own delightful and lovable per- 
sonality. Mr. Harris's skill in nar- 
rative is well-nigh perfect, and the 
conversation, in which his books 
abound, is carried on with absolute 
naturalness and fidelity to life. The 
habit of thought as well as of speech 
is strikingly reproduced. Not a 
word strikes a false note, not a scene 
or incident is out of keeping with the 
spirit of the life presented. No one 
has more perfectly preserved some 
of the most important traits of South- 
ern character, nor more enchanting- 
ly presented some of the most beau- 
30 



5oel CbanDler Ibacrts. 



tiful phases of Southern civiHza- 
tion. 

Other phases of negro character, 
very different from those presented in 
the "Legends," appeared in the "Say- 
ings" and in various "Sketches," 
which reproduce " the shrewd ob- 
ervations, the curious retorts, the 
homely thrusts, the quaint com- 
ments, and the humorous philosophy 
of the race of which Uncle Remus 
is a type." But in " Nights with 
Uncle Remus," "Daddy Jake the 
Runaway," and " Uncle Remus and 
His Friends " we returned again to 
the old plantation home; "daddy," 
" mammy," and the " field hands " 
lived once more with their happy, 
smiling faces ; songs floated out upon 
the summer air, laden with the per- 
fume of rose and honeysuckle and 
peach blossom, and mingled with 
the rollicking medley of the mock- 
ing bird ; and we felt that somehow 
over the whole life the spell of gen- 
ius had been thrown, rendering it 
immortal. But it is with and through 
31 



Joel CbanMec Ibarris. 

the negro that Mr. Harris has 
wrought this wonder, for as Mr. 
Page says : "No man who has ever 
written has known one-tenth part 
about the negro that Mr. Harris 
knows, and for those who hereafter 
shall wish to find not merely the 
words, but the real language of the 
negro of that section, and the habits 
of mind of all American negroes of 
the old time, his works will prove 
the best thesaurus." 

Again a larger world beckoned to 
the writer, as to the boy, and he en- 
tered the field of original story-tell- 
ing and wider creative ability with 
perfect poise and consummate liter- 
ary art in " Mingo," a " Cracker " 
tragedy, disclosing the pent-up rage 
of a century against aristocratic 
neighbors, antipathy to the negro, 
narrowness and pride, happily turned 
by Mingo's gratitude and watchful 
and protecting love for his young 
" Mistiss's " fatherless and mother- 
less little girl into a smiling comedy, 
closing with this pretty picture : 
32 



5oel CbauDler Ibards. 

" The sunshine falHng gently upon 
his gray hairs, and the httle girl 
clinging to his hand and daintily 
throwing kisses." Mingo, drawn 
with genuine sympathy and true 
skill, is one of the author's master- 
pieces ; but we are somehow spe- 
cially attracted to Mrs. Feratia Biv- 
ins, whose " pa would 'a' bin a rich 
man, an' 'a' owned niggers^ if it 
hadn't but 'a' bin bekase he sot his 
head agin stintin' of his stomach," 
and whose sharp tongue, homely 
wit, and indignant hate portray the 
first of a group of the Mrs. Poyser- 
like women who give spice as well 
as life to the author's pages. An- 
other is Mrs. Kendrick in " Blue 
Dave " — of which, by the bye, the 
author says, " I like ' Blue Dave ' 
better than all the rest, w^hich is an- 
other way of saying that it is far 
from the best " — whose humor con- 
ceals her own emotions, and flashes 
a calcium light upon the weaknesses 
of others. " Well, well, well ! " said 
Mrs. Kendrick, speaking of the quiet, 
3 33 



5oel CbanMer Ibacrfs, 



self-contained, elegant, and rather 
prim Mrs. Denham. " She always 
put me in mind of a ghost that can't 
be laid on account of its pride. But 
we're what the Lord made us, I reck- 
on, and people deceive their looks. 
My old turkey gobbler is harmless 
as a hound puppy, but I reckon he'd 
bust if he didn't up and strut when 
strangers are in the front porch." 
"Uncle Remus," "Mingo," "Blue 
Dave," and " Balaam " belong to the 
class which " has nothing but pleas- 
ant memories of the discipline of 
slavery, and which has all the preju- 
dices of caste and pride of family 
that were the natural results of the 
system." But " Free Joe " presents 
another phase — this heart tragedy 
brought about by the inhumanity of 
man and the pitiless force of circum- 
stances. Nowhere has the helpless 
wretchedness of the dark side of 
slavery been more clearly recognized 
or more powerfully depicted. Truth 
demands that the complete picture 
shall be given, though silly scrib-^ 
34 



5oel CbanC)lcr Ibarris, 



bier or narrow bigot may accuse the 
author of trying to cater to North- 
ern sentiment. Every now and then 
some Southern writer is subjected 
to this unmanly and ignoble insult, 
though much less frequently than 
formerly. Mr. Maurice Thompson's 
poem and Mr. Henry Watterson's 
speech on " Lincoln," Mr. James 
Lane Allen's lecture on " The South 
in Fiction," and Mr. W. P. Trent's 
" Life of William Gilmore Simms," 
seem to produce a mild form of 
rabies in certain quarters. " AVhat 
does it matter," asks Mr. Harris, 
" whether I am Northern or South- 
ern, if I am true to truth, and true 
to that larger truth, my own true 
self? My idea is that truth is more 
important than sectionalism, and 
that literature that can be labeled 
Northern, Southern, Western, or 
Eastern is not worth labeling at 
all." Shutting one's eyes to facts 
removes them neither from life nor 
from history. And so we are spe- 
cially thankful to Mr. Harris for 
35 



3-oel CbanDler Ibarcts. 



" Free Joe," " Little Compton," and 
all those passages in " On the Plan- 
tation " and his other writings which 
lead us to a truer and larger human- 
ity. His skillful manner of convey- 
ing a lesson is admirably done at the 
close of " Free Joe." This " black 
atom drifting hither and thither with- 
out an owner, blown about by all the 
winds of circumstance, and given 
over to shiftlessness," is the person- 
ification of helpless suffering, and 
yet he chuckles as he slips away 
from the cabin of the cracker broth- 
er and sister into the night. Micajah 
vStaley, how^ever, the representative 
of too large a number, says : " Look 
at that nigger ; look at 'im. He's 
pine blank as happy now as a kildee 
by a mill race. You can't 'faze 'em. 
I'd in about give up my t'other hand 
ef I could Stan' flat-footed an' grin 
at trouble like that there nigger." 
" Niggers is niggers," said Miss 
Becky, smiling grimly, " an' you 
can't rub it out ; yit I lay I've seed 
a heap of white folks lots meaner'n 
36 



5ocl CbanMer Ibarris. 

Free Joe. He grins — and that's nig- 
ger — but I've ketched his underjaw 
a trimblin' when Lucindy's name uz 
brung up." He was found dead the 
next morning,with a smile on his face. 
" It was as if he had bowed and 
smiled when death stood before him, 
humble to the last." The world could 
ill spare woman's or the artist's eye. 
Other stories, as "At Teague Po- 
teet's," " Trouble on Lost Moun- 
tain," and "Azalia," show a steady 
gain in the range of Mr. Harris's 
creative power. The keenest inter- 
est was awakened when the first 
part of "i\t Teague Poteet's " came 
out in the Centuiy^ May, 18S3, and 
the reader who happened to turn to 
the Atlantic for the same month 
and read " The Harnt That Walks 
Chilhowee" must have been sur- 
prised at the revelation which these 
two admirable stories made of the 
real and potent romance of the moun- 
tains and valleys of Tennessee and 
Georgia. This was a longer and 
more sustained effort than Uncle 
37 



5oel CbanMer Ibarrls. 



Remus had ever attempted. It 
evinced an eye for local color, ap- 
preciation of individual characteris- 
tics, and the ability to catch the spirit 
of a people that could be as open as 
their valleys or as rugged, enigmat- 
ical, and silent as their mountains. 
Scene and character were vividly 
real, and the story vs^as told with 
consummate art and luiflagging in- 
terest till the climax was reached. 
" Trouble on Lost Mountain " sus- 
tained his reputation as a story-teller 
and added the element of tragic 
power. 

At a first glance it would seem 
that these, with his previous writ- 
ings, give promise of the fully 
developed novel with the old plan- 
tation life for a background and the 
nation for its scope. But it must 
not be forgotten that Mr. Harris 
is a hard-working journalist, sel- 
dom missing a day from his desk ; 
and as Mr. Stedman has pointed out 
in regard to Bayard Taylor, " this 
task of daily writing for the press, 
38 



5oel CbanDlec Ibarrts. 



while a good staff, is a poor crutch ; 
it diffuses the heat of authorship, 
checks idealism, retards the construc- 
tion of masterpieces." It is perhaps 
due to this that the love element in 
these stories lacks that romantic fer- 
vor and tenderness which make all 
the world love a lover. They are 
vivid and dramatic, sparkling with 
humor and keen observations, and 
revealing intimate knowledge of hu- 
man hearts. But in "Azalia," for 
instance, the Southern general and 
his mother are rather conventional, 
and Miss Hallie is insipid, though 
through them we do catch glimpses 
of old Southern mansions, with their 
stately yet simple architecture, ad- 
mirably illustrative of the lives and 
characters of the owners, and of the 
unaffected, warm, and gracious old- 
time hospitality. The Northern la- 
dies, too, admirably described as 
they are in a few words, are slight 
sketches rather than true present- 
ments. This story is particularly 
rich in types, but the real life in its 



5oel CbanMer Ibartte* 



humor and its pathos is in the " char- 
acters." Mrs. Haley, a lineal de- 
scendant of Mrs. Poyser ; William, 
a little imp of sable hue that might 
serve as a weather-stained statue of 
comedy, if he were not so instinct 
with life ; and Emma Jane Stucky 
— the representative of that inde- 
scribable class of people known as 
the piny woods " Tackies " — whose 
" pale, unhealthy-looking face, with 
sunken eyes, high cheek-bones, and 
thin lips that seemed never to have 
troubled themselves to smile — a 
burnt-out face that had apparently 
surrendered to the past and had no 
hope for the future " — remains in- 
delibly etched upon the memory^ 
making its mute appeal for human 
sympathy and helpful and generous 
pity. Like all genuine humorists, 
Mr. Harris has his wit always sea- 
soned with love, and a moral purpose 
underlies all his writings. In the 
tv^elve volumes or more which he 
has published he has preserved tra- 
ditions and legends, photographed a 
40 



Joel CbanOlec Ibarrls. 



civilization, perpetuated types, cre- 
ated one character. Humor and sym- 
pathy are his chief qualities, and in 
everything he is simple and natural. 
Human character is stripped of tire- 
less details. The people speak their 
natural language, and act out their 
little tragedies and comedies accord- 
ing to their nature. " We see them, 
share their joys and griefs, laugh at 
their humor, and in the midst of all, 
behold, we are taught the lesson of 
honesty, justice, and mercy." 

In person Joel Chandler Harris is 
somewhat under the middle height, 
compact, broad of shoulder, and rath- 
er rotund about the waist. But he 
is supple, energetic, and his swing- 
ing stride still tells of the freedom 
w^hich the boy enjoyed on the Tur- 
ner plantation. He is the most pro- 
nounced of blondes, with chestnut 
hair, a mustache of the same color, 
and sympathetic, laughing blue eyes. 
Sick or well, he is always in a good 
humor, and enjoys his work, his 
friends, and his family. Sprung 
41 



5ocl CbanDler Ibarrts* 



from a simple, sincere race whose 
wants were few and whose tastes 
were easily satisfied, he is very hon- 
est and outspoken in his opinions 
and convictions, and the whole na- 
ture of the man tends to earnestness,, 
simplicity, and truth. " I like peo- 
ple," he says, " who are what they 
are, and are not all the time trying 
to be what somebody else has been." 
In spite of the fame which has come 
unbidden, he still delights to luxu- 
riate in the quiet restfulness of his 
semirural home in the little suburb 
of West End, three miles from the 
heart of Atlanta ; and we confess that 
we like best to think of him, as Mr. 
Brainerd once described him in the 
Critic^ in this typical Southern cot- 
tage nestling in a grove of sweet 
gum and pine, enlivened by the sing- 
ing of a family of mocking birds that 
wintered in his garden — and not a 
bird among them, we imagined, with 
whose peculiarities he was not fa- 
miliar. In a distant corner of his 
enclosure a group of brown-eyed 
42 



5oel CbanC)ler Ibarris, 



Jerseys grazed. Hives of bees were 
placed near a flower garden that 
sloped down to the bubbling spring 
at the foot of the road, a few rods 
distant. The casual visitor, we were 
told, was apt to be eyed by the dig- 
nified glance of a superb English 
mastiff, followed by the bark of 
two of the finest dogs in the coun- 
try — one a bull dog, the other a 
white English bull terrier. But this 
was published in 1885, and now Mr. 
Garsney, in the Book Buye?' for 
March, 1896, tells us that the " grove 
of sweet gums," the " babbling 
brook," and the " droning bees are 
all fictions of somebody else's poetic 
fancy." Still Mr. Garsney, in his 
setting for the author of " Uncle 
Remus," has the eye of an artist 
and is himself full of poetry, how- 
ever ruthless he may be with " po- 
etic fancies," for after placing him 
" amid his roses," he adds : " The 
roses are his one passion, and under 
his tender care the garden — the finest 
rose garden in Atlanta outside of a 
43 



5ocl CbanMer Ibarrie. 



florist's domain — blooms with jDrod- 
igal beauty from May until the mid- 
dle of December. In the early sum- 
mer mornings, when the mocking 
birds are trying their notes in the 
cedar, and the wrens are chirping 
over their nest in the old mail box 
at the gate, you can hear the snip- 
ping of the pruning shears, and you 
know that Joel Chandler Harris is 
caressing his roses while the dew is 
yet on their healthy leaves." 

In this home, with its spacious ve- 
randas, generous hearths, and wide, 
sunny windows, the right man is 
sure to find a welcome. The house 
is one in which bric-a-brac, trump- 
ery, and literary litter are conspic- 
uously absent, but evidently a home 
where wife and children take the 
place of these inanimate objects of 
devotion. But here the man Joel 
Chandler Harris, as Carlyle would 
have said, is seen at his best. It 
is here that the usually silent or 
monosyllabic figure takes on life 
and shares with another his inner 
44 



Joel CbanMer Ibarrls. 



wealth of thought and fancy. Mr. 
Garsney, who had the good fortune 
to be an inmate of this home for 
some months, and to \vhose sketch 
the writer is indebted for many of 
these personal remarks and ob- 
servations, thus describes certain 
rare moments : " It is in the dark- 
ness of a summer evening, on the 
great front porch of his house, or 
by his fireside, with no light save 
that from the flickering coals which 
he loves to punch and caress, that 
the man breaks forth into conver- 
sation. I have had in these rare 
twilight hours the plot of a whole 
book unfolded to me — a book that 
is yet in the dim future, but which 
will make a stir when it appears ; 
I have heard stories innumerable of 
old plantation life and of happen- 
ings in Georgia during the war ; 
and I have heard through the mouth 
of this taciturn and unliterary-look- 
ing man more thrilling stories of 
colonial life in the South than I 
had believed the South held. At 
45 



5oel CbanDler Ibarcis. 



these times the slight hesitancy that 
is usually apparent in his speech dis- 
appears ; his thoughts take words 
and come forth, tinged by the quaint 
Georgia dialect, in so original a 
shape and so full of human nature 
that one remembers these hours long 
afterwards as times to be marked 
with a white stone." 

But it is only to the chosen com- 
panion that he thus unlocks his 
treasures. He seldom has more 
than a word for ordinary acquaint- 
ances, and the ubiquitous interview- 
er he avoids as a deadly plague. 
From him the autograph fiends 
get no response, and many amus- 
ing stories are told of his suc- 
cess in eluding sightseers and lion- 
hunters. No inducement has yet 
prevailed upon him to appear in 
public, either as a reader or as a lec- 
turer. "I would not do it for $i,- 
000,000," was once his response to 
an invitation to lecture. Many po- 
sitions of great trust and prominence, 
we are told, have been refused by 
46 



5ocl CbanMer Ibacris* 



him, for he says : " If the greatest 
position on the round earth were to 
be offered me, I wouldn't take it. 
The responsibihty would kill me in 
two weeks. Now I haven't any care 
or any troubles, and I have resolved 
never to worry any more. Life is 
all a joke to me. Why make it a 
care?" 

To those who are engaged in the 
pigmy contests for money and place 
this philosophy will doubtless ap- 
pear tame and unheroic. But for a 
man of Mr. Harris's peculiar gifts 
and temperament it is the highest 
wisdom. It means the saving for 
mankind what a few would squan- 
der upon themselves. It means more 
inimitable stories, and since his suc- 
cess in the past justifies us in expect- 
ing it, and especially since he has 
reached the age of ripest wisdom 
and supremest effort on the part of 
genius, it means, we may hope, 
a work into which he will put 
the wealth of his mind and heart, 
and expand and compress into one 
47 



3^oel CbanMer Ibarris. 



novel the completest expression of 
his whole being. But if he should 
never give us a masterpiece of fiction 
like his beloved " Vicar of Wake- 
field," "Ivanhoe," "Vanity Fair," 
or " The Scarlet Letter," we shall 
still be forever grateful for the fresh 
and beautiful stories, the delightful 
humor, the genial, manly philosophy, 
and the wise and witty sayings in 
which his writings abound. His 
characters have become world pos- 
sessions ; his words are in all our 
mouths. By virtue of these gifts he 
will be enrolled in that small but dis- 
tinguished company of humorists, 
the immortals of the heart and home, 
whose genius, wisdom, and charity 
keep fresh and sweet the springs of 
life, and Uncle Remus will live al- 
ways. 

48 



Cminent T/^ethodists. 

SERIES^0R^96. 

'^T'HIS is a series of booklets, uniform 
V"^ in stjle with " Southern Writers," 
which is issued monthly. It will em- 
brace twelve biographical sketches of 
eminent Methodists, written bj Bishops 
O. P. Fitzgerald and Charles B. Gallo- 
way. The names of these distinguished 
authors give a pledge of the highest ex- 
cellence, and we bespeak for the series a 
wide circulation. They will include the 
following: 

Eoirtck Picrw, fieorgc T. Pierce, 

£. e. Garland, Jefferson liamilton, 

moses Brock, Susanna Uleslev, 

li. n. mctyeire, uiniiam Uimans, 

Robert n. Smith, Benjamin m. Drake, 

Robert Hlexander, 3ames H. Duncan. 

The first six numbers are already pub- 
lished, and the succeeding titles will fol- 
low monthly. 

Subscription for the Whole Series, 50c. 
Single Numbers, 5c. 

^arbee dc Smith, J't^enis, 

NASHVILLE, TENN. 



mntings of ^^ 

Joel Chandler Harris. 

« « « 

Uncle Remus i His Songs and His 
Sajings. The Folklore of the Old 
Plantation. Illustrated $2 00 

Uncle Remus and His Friends, Old 
Plantation Stories, Songs, and 
Ballads, with Sketches of Negro 
Character. Illustrated. 1 50 

Nights with Uncle Remus, Illus- 
trated 1 50 

Mingo and Other Sketches in Black 
and White 1 25 

Balaam and His Masters, and Other 
Sketches and Stories 1 25 

Little Mr, Thimblefinger and His ^^[^ 

Queer Country, What the Chil- ^ 

dren Saw and Heard There. II- Ol 

lustrated 2 00 v-y, 

Mr, Rabbit at Homei A Sequel to W 

Little Mr. Thimblefinger 2 00 ^ 

On the Old Plantation, With Nu- 
merous Illustrations 1 50 

« « « 
NASHVILLE, TBNN. 



LP.A 



PV9 



